"So then—"
Kyo's legs were practically wrapped around Soyo's waist, the two pressed tightly together.
This was entirely Soyo's doing—she had been the one who didn't want Kyo to leave, the one who had stubbornly held her in place. But now, with them stuck in this position, Kyo had only spoken a few words before Soyo already felt like she couldn't handle it.
Back at school, there was a simple, childish game people would play sometimes—a staring contest.
Two people would lock eyes, and whoever looked away first, or broke into laughter, would lose.
Even at the prestigious Tsukinomori Academy, where the young ladies were expected to uphold their elegant image, students in the midst of their most energetic years would still find a hidden corner away from the teachers to play this utterly unrefined game.
Soyo, however, had never once participated.
Part of it was because she found the game far too immature.
The other part was that, despite being able to maintain perfect eye contact in social settings—giving the impression of attentiveness and sincerity—this kind of deliberate, prolonged staring felt far too direct.
Too much like an outright emotional expression.
Soyo had always preferred a more subtle, understated way of interacting with others.
To her, subtlety meant that everything appeared as just another part of the everyday—singing together, chatting about what they ate that day, playfully teasing each other's outfits…
That was the kind of connection she longed for most.
Which was why, ever since Kyo arrived at her home today, every little moment they spent together—discussing dinner, drying her hair—filled Soyo with a quiet, indescribable happiness.
It should have been like that.
A steady, gentle current, flowing through the gaps in her heart, filling the emptiness inside.
But now—
Kyo, seated on top of her, had none of the embarrassment one would expect in this situation.
Her expression was perfectly composed, as if she were sitting in a café having a casual conversation.
If she ever played that staring game with the students at Tsukinomori, she'd win without a doubt.
If it were just about maintaining a serious expression, that would've been fine.
But Kyo was relentless. She never wavered, her gaze locked onto Soyo's.
Whenever Soyo tried to turn her head even slightly, Kyo would lean in, shifting to stay within her line of sight—forcing her to keep looking.
And if Soyo really tried to avoid eye contact, she had no doubt Kyo would simply grab her face and turn it back.
Faced with those two options, Soyo would rather just look at Kyo willingly.
Well—"willingly."
Even if she was forced to meet Kyo's gaze, that didn't mean she was prepared for it.
Kyo's eyes remained steady and unshaken—calm, like a still lake.
But beneath that stillness, something else lurked—an unseen undercurrent, subtly shifting beneath the surface.
And what made it even harder to endure—
Was Kyo's breath.
It was warm, carrying the faint humidity of her words as they brushed against Soyo's skin.
Of course, all exhaled air contained some moisture.
But this—
This didn't feel like some moisture.
Kyo was at least mindful enough not to speak directly into Soyo's face, tilting her head downward slightly as she spoke.
Which meant that every time she exhaled, that warm, rhythmic breath drifted against Soyo's chin and neck—like waves washing up the shore, over and over, subtly overwhelming her senses.
"...Are you even listening?"
Kyo had already spoken several sentences, yet she received no response. Her expression drooped in dissatisfaction.
"...!"
Soyo finally snapped out of that strange, lingering daze, though she still looked somewhat unfocused. "Sorry, Kyo… Could you say that again? I spaced out for a moment."
Kyo eyed her suspiciously.
Flushed cheeks, unsteady breathing, wandering gaze—she definitely looked like she was hiding something.
But Kyo wasn't in the mood to press the issue.
"I just said that I want you to lay everything out—what exactly do you want to do, and what are you hoping to gain from it? Let's sort this out properly."
"What I want to do…"
Soyo pressed her lips together.
CRYCHIC immediately surfaced in her mind.
But Kyo had already made her feelings about the band clear—she didn't want to go back.
Would it really be okay to bring it up again?
"Don't hold back," Kyo said, instantly seeing through her hesitation. "This is supposed to be an open conversation. Even if I don't agree with you, I'll explain why I don't.
"Just treat me like a… I don't know, a wishing well? I like that analogy better."
Soyo's lips moved, but every time she was about to speak, she stopped at the last second.
Her eyes reflected uncertainty, hesitation—measuring the weight of her words, afraid of what might happen if she let them out.
But in the end, she finally voiced the thought that had clung to her heart ever since that rainy day:
"I… I want everyone in CRYCHIC to come back. I want us to be a band again, happy like before."
The moment she spoke, she completely forgot the nervousness, the shyness she'd felt earlier about meeting Kyo's gaze.
She immediately looked at her, desperate to see her reaction—terrified she'd be met with rejection.
Luckily, Kyo's expression remained calm.
Unluckily, it was too calm—so unaffected that the word CRYCHIC hadn't even stirred the slightest reaction from her.
"So that's what you want to do. Now tell me—why?"
Like a judge interrogating a defendant, Kyo dissected Soyo's words, pressing her further.
"I love everyone in CRYCHIC. I miss the times we performed together. I… I want to bring the band back together for everyone's sake."
"For everyone's sake."
Kyo repeated her words, her face unreadable.
"Alright. Let's assume, for now, that you really mean that."
She leaned in slightly.
"Now it's my turn.
"First of all—I'm not against joining a band. It's not something I'm particularly interested in, but I don't hate it either. And, as I've said before, I really did enjoy those times we spent together."
"Then…!"
Soyo's heart jolted.
Hope flared up in her chest, so strong that her arms instinctively tightened around Kyo.
But—
The next sentence doused her in cold water.
"But, Soyo—CRYCHIC is never coming back."
"If what you want is to recreate the old band exactly as it was, then forget it."
"Not just anyone else—I will never, ever, be a part of that."
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